


you know how much i hate waiting around

by calculus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calculus/pseuds/calculus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The <i>Hale's</i> bakery is a fairly popular breakfast spot for New York's finest and grumpiest students, due to both Derek's incredibly delicious pastries and their ever-popular Muffin Mondays.</p><p>Stiles, though, comes in Tuesdays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mordor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mordor/gifts).



> > Quick terminology for non-East Coasters:
>> 
>> Pie - refers to an entire pizza pie  
> Lombardi's - a pretty famous pizzeria in NYC; toted to be NY's first

The loud clattering over the threshold of the shop is familiar, as is the dark mutterings of the haggard-looking boy walking up to the counter, his brown hair tousled and looking like somebody repeatedly grabbed at it until it came up in clumps, dark blue cardigan looking like it went through a particularly vicious fight with the laundry machine. Derek smooths down his apron, clears his throat, and tilts his head a little to get the boy to look at him.

"Morning, Stiles. What can I get for you today?" he asks pleasantly, inordinately proud that his voice didn't crack like the last time Stiles came around. Stiles looks up at him, eyes bloodshot and bags heavy and stark against the pallor of his skin.

"Derek. Coffee. Now. The largest you can possibly push with as many shots of espresso that can fit."

Stiles is jittering in place, hands scrabbling at the countertop a little, and Derek looks pointedly at them while dutifully ringing up his order.

"You sure you need this much caffeine, Stiles? I feel like I shouldn’t be enabling you here." He writes the order for an extra large red eye with three extra shots of espresso and places it on the queue counter for Boyd to make. Stiles responds with a truly impressive scowl for somebody who looks like he's spent the past two days awake by virtue of many _many_ lattes.

"Shut up and get me a muffin. The carrot ones that Laura baked," Stiles growls, and Derek rolls his eyes, still heading for the baked goods display and plucking out a particularly big muffin from the basket. He places it on a plate and slides it over the counter, watching Stiles reach for his wallet in his tight jean pocket out of the corner of his eye while he adds the muffin order to the register.

Stiles passes over a ten dollar bill, tells him to keep the change, and snatches the muffin and plate off the counter to hole up at his regular table. Derek just shakes his head and cashes in the bill. He doesn't discreetly watch Stiles's ass as the boy walks away.

He doesn't.

-

The bakery is a modestly named _Hale's_ , a little down away from the Broome Street residential college that houses many of NYU's upperclassmen. Between that and their incredibly fortunate luck of being the only place selling both baked goods and coffee within five blocks (suck on that, Starbucks), Laura and Derek's business is buoyed entirely by the virtue of caffeine-driven students and their notoriously big appetites. They also have the fortune of having the best baked goods within a 5-mile radius, courtesy of Derek's magic hands, which makes Hale's a pretty popular place for hipsters, procrastinating college students, and SoHo shoppers looking for a quick espresso and cookie.

That also gives Laura and Derek an infinite supply of college workers, and their team, thus, runs like a well-oiled machine thanks to Isaac, Boyd, and Erica, who've all been employed since their first years as freshmen. And, unintentionally, due to the above average looks of their entire team, Hale's has acquired quite the reputation for their "unfairly drop-dead gorgeous model" service workers. Laura likes to put it on their adverts whenever they do Muffin Monday.

Muffin Monday is also the busiest day of the week for them, because of their half-off deal on muffins. People flock to the doors as early as five AM just to get first pick at Derek's first batch of muffins (and a glimpse of Derek in his flour-covered wifebeater and apron, Erica likes to say), and rush in like it's Black Friday come early. Isaac almost got trampled his first time working the opening shift on Muffin Monday.

That’s how they got Boyd, too. The boy had come in one such hectic morning for his regular rhubarb muffin, the week after Jackson had finally quit (and good riddance to that), while Isaac and Laura were frantically trying to get through everyone’s orders as quickly as possible by themselves because Erica was too sick to come in, and quietly marched up behind the counter and started taking orders without a single prompting. He’d been hired the moment the morning rush hour tapered off, and that was that.

That's not how Derek met Stiles, though. 

-

Stiles comes in Tuesdays like clockwork. He gets a large black coffee and a carrot cake muffin every time, and likes to sit by one of the corner tables hunched over his meal half-asleep until the caffeine kicks in. Then he stays for another hour on his laptop getting in last minute assignments before leaving for his classes.

Not that Derek knows his schedule or anything.

Derek didn't even work Tuesday morning shifts originally. He's the main baker of the store, so he gets most of the work done after closing hours and into the bright early mornings before the store opens, and then he gets the fuck out because sleep is still a thing. He usually only does midday or closing shifts because he needs to be in bakery by then anyway, but Laura managed to wheedle out a shift cover for her Tuesday morning after an ill-advised no holds barred poker night that ended with Laura's unconditioned win and a nasty hangover for Derek that Sunday night before.

And it was with rather an unpleasant attitude that Derek greeted Stiles for the first time.

-

Derek in the mornings is a terrifying beast to bear, especially after hours of back-breaking baking and dough kneading. Boyd and Erica had to stick him by the espresso machine so he wouldn't viciously snap at any of their other customers after he rang up the first girl and left her in almost horrified tears and a complimentary bearclaw from a profusely apologetic Boyd. So, he sullenly made latte after latte for the hoards of loud college kids and busy white-collar workers while cursing Laura's very existence with each shot of espresso he poured. It's not his fault that he's nasty when he's tired; he's perfectly justified when everybody is so disgustingly _chipper_ about the morning. Who the fuck gives them the right to tell him good morning anyway?

But, in the tiny lull in between the changing of hours, a customer comes up to the counter without anyone in sight to take his order, and Derek can only look helplessly at his espresso machine for moment before taking the spot in front of the cash register with the air of a prisoner resigned to his fate. He only has a moment to steel himself before scrounging up the minimal civility necessary to ask the boy for his order, but the carefully harvested words drop right back down when he gets a good look at the customer.

“He~ey, Boyd, can I get my usual with an extra muffin for the road today?” says the boy, distractedly focused with adjusting one of the straps on his backpack. He looks up ready to continue and stops, jerking his head back in visible surprise, mouth hanging open in an unfairly attractive way. “Uh. You’re not Boyd. Uhm. Where’s Boyd? Who are you? I’ve never seen you before here. Uhm. Hi.”

Laura likes to say Derek was raised by wolves because he can’t socialize properly with people; Mom usually exasperatedly tells her off when Derek used to run crying to her for validation that he was a real boy when he was small. But, perhaps there’s merit to her words because all Derek can say in response is:

“Either order or get out.”

He wants to physically stuff the words back into his mouth and rearrange them until they come out sounding less terse and more flirty because this guy is actually so much Derek’s type, but. He grimaces as the guy’s smile falls quickly at his words, but he’s pleasantly surprised when it shoots back up with extra force.

“Well, now, somebody clearly didn’t get up on the right side of bed this morning. Thankfully for you, Mr. Grumpypants, _I_ did, and I’m willing to overlook that surliness in favor for a large light roast and two carrot cake muffins,” the guy says, hands coming to rest on the counteredge and leaning in a little. His grin is wide and mischievous, and Derek blindly imagines tasting that bright smile before blinking back to reality.

Grunting, he rings up the guy’s order and slides open the baked goods display door for two muffins. He peeks out from over the display with a frown.

“You want this for here or to go?”

The guy, who seems to have been staring at him blankly, blinks twice before shaking his head a little. “Oh, uhm. One for here and one to go, please.” He smiles again, and Derek unconsciously smiles back a bit before catching himself and sets his face back in his default frown. He ducks back down, missing the charmed expression that crosses the guy’s face, and hurriedly pulls out a muffin to put on a small plate and stuffs the other in a brown paper bag.

Coming back to the register, he plunks down the plate and shoves the bag towards the guy, who fumbles a little before grasping it properly. He then pulls off a large cup to fill with one of their signature light roasts.

“You want room?” he asks in mid-pour.

“Hm? Oh, no, fill ‘er up, man.”

Derek hums quietly, filling the cup to the brim before capping it and sliding it over the counter.

“That’ll be 5.71 altogether,” he says gruffly. The guy makes a noise and sticks in his jean pocket for his wallet and pulls out a ten.

“Keep the change as tip. Hopefully that’ll sweeten your day, sourlips. Have a good one!” says the guy, sliding over the bill with a private smile, and whisks away with his food in hand before Derek can say anything back.

Boyd comes back to the storefront just as the guy walks into the sitting area, and he calls out.

“Boyd! My man!” He waves cheerfully, juggling his plate and coffee cup, and Boyd throws him a small smile.

“Stiles. Always a pleasure,” Boyd responds, taking his place behind the counter, and looking at Derek. Derek mouths ‘Stiles’ to himself, unwillingly amused by the name, and flicks his eyes back to where the guy seats himself, privately enjoying his tall, lean form before Boyd’s pointed cough breaks him out of his gaze.

He goes back to the coffee machine with a quick nod to Boyd, who only looks back at him amusedly, and spends the next hour and a half sneaking quick glances back at Stiles’ slouching form while pretending he’s completely immersed in the art of coffee-making.

-

Derek takes the next three morning shifts in addition to his original two closing shifts before he has to beg out from sheer exhaustion. Laura is both bemused and a little concerned with Derek’s adamant insistence on coming in mornings too, but lets it go when he remains tight-lipped.

Boyd keeps laughing at Derek whenever he’s on shift with him, though. Erica and Isaac are woefully left out on the joke, and Derek’s left to deal with Erica’s pestering and Isaac’s confused puppy face whenever Boyd bursts into sniggers.

He makes another five separate customers cry during those shifts.

On Derek’s day off, Boyd comes by his apartment with two pies from Lombardi’s, still warm and oozing grease, after his afternoon shift ended around 5 and forces Derek to get out of bed for a thorough ass-kicking in Mario Kart. They eat in relative silence and the occasional yell of profanity when the other gleefully runs him off the track, and Derek eventually thaws out enough to partially forgive Boyd’s teasing.

Derek completely forgives Boyd though, when Boyd casually tells him that Stiles is a Tuesday morning regular on his way out the door, and judging by the smug grin on Boyd’s face, he knows it too.

Laura’s incredibly flummoxed when Derek volunteers himself the Tuesday morning shift the next day during their team’s weekly dinner, but agrees to switch him over with only a suspicious look at him and Boyd, who can’t help the wide grin on his face. (Asshole.)

-

Stiles practically beams when he sees Derek sullenly working the cash register that next Tuesday morning and practically trips over himself getting to the counter.

“Lemonface! You’re here again!” he cries out happily, almost bouncing in place across from Derek. He’s wearing a beanie today and thick-rimmed glasses, and he looks _delicious_. Derek refuses to whimper.

“Seriously? Lemonface? You’re judging me based on one encounter?” Derek gripes, just barely keeping his cool. He would do dirty things to that face, it’s ridiculous.

Stiles tips his head back in a burst of laughter, clearly surprised, and Derek just wants to _eat_ him. He can feel the tips of his ears heat up already, and he’s never been more thankful that he’s spent years mastering his poker face thanks to Laura because there’s just something about Stiles’ visceral happiness that’s so fucking magnetic that Derek wants to join in.

“Fair enough,” Stiles says when he tapers off the laughter, wide smile inviting Derek to respond back in kind. “What should I call you then, sassypants?”

Derek’s lip twitch as he tries to hold back his own sound of amusement. “Really? More name-calling? What are you, five?”

“Then, hurry up and gimme your name if you want me to stop,” Stiles retorts, practically lounging against the countertop like it’s his, arms braced against the black surface. Derek flicks a quick glance at them and then back to Stiles’ face who licks his lips, leaving behind a wet sheen.

“...Derek.” He sounds a little strangled, but he can’t help it because Stiles just pushes all of his buttons so _well_.

“Derek,” Stiles echoes, licking his lips again.

The sudden sound of the stock room door swinging violently open with Erica’s loud cursing breaks the moment, and Derek quickly clears his throat, dropping his gaze down to the cash register.

“Uhm. What do you want today?” Derek mumbles, fingers curling against the keys of the register. Stiles makes a strangled noise.

“I, uh, large coffee and carrot cake muffin, please,” he rattles off, snapping back up to a straight position, fingers left tapping away on the countertop.

When Stiles is neatly tucked into his corner with his order, Erica immediately pounces on Derek, pulling him away from the register for Boyd to step in, and draws him to crouch behind the baked goods display.

“Erica, what the hell--” Derek growls, but he stops at the sight of the wide predatory grin on Erica’s painted lips.

“Is this why you took over Laura’s morning shifts, De~rek?” she asks sing-songy, teeth bared and gleaming white. He recoils a little because he has a healthy fear of his employees, even with his co-boss status.

“Erica.”

“Stiles? Your type is Stiles? I mean, I can totally see why, he’s gorgeous even with the awkward chatter, I’d totally tap that myself,” she crows, and Derek flushes with the momentary urge to growl at her to back off. She catches his expression, and her smile widens.

“Oh my, you really do like him. That’s adorable,” she says, and has the gall to pat him on the head. Derek looks at her with what Laura likes call his bitchface, and Erica rolls her eyes before pulling back up.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You know it’s true.”

“What are the chances that Laura never has to find out about this?” Derek asks hurriedly, also rising up. Erica looks at him pityingly.

“I’d give it until lunch time, if you’re lucky.”

She finds out not even ten minutes after Stiles leaves the bakery.

-

Derek spends a week being teased by everyone, but he bears it with some grace because he spends the next two months greeting the morning with Stiles’ presence every Tuesday. It’s not pathetic, no matter what Laura or Erica say, and even if Derek wants to go beyond just seeing Stiles once a week, he’s happy enough getting to know Stiles more and more as the weeks pass.

He learns that Stiles is a linguistics major, interested in going into graduate school for cognitive science, and a virulent Temple Run addict. Stiles chose to go to school in New York because he wanted to see the East Coast, having spent his formative years in Northern California, and his mother had come from Boston. He likes obnoxiously sweet pink bubble gum and listening to a wide range of music from B.I.G. to Queen, both of which he listens to with great enthusiasm as Derek has seen on three separate occasions.

Stiles is also irredeemably in love with Derek’s baking, the carrot cake muffins most of all. Derek asked him once whether he’d wanted to try something new, and Stiles went on a fifteen minute exposition on how he’d tried every bit of baked good sold in the bakery and loved it all, but crowned the carrot cake muffins as king on his list because the “moist, dense cake-texture and buttery sweet carrot bits” made him want to offer both virgin sacrifices and his own “nubile, young, considered to be moderately attractive by most of my partners” body to the baker for a year’s worth of them. Derek’s ears had burned crimson, and he’d almost threw himself across the counter to take what was so freely offered except--

Derek, being the incomparable genius that he was, had told Stiles it was Laura who baked the food when Stiles had looked at him with wide, inviting eyes and asked.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

-

Muffin Monday opens bright and early at 6 AM to the stomping feet and bustling chatter of windswept college students and rushing office workers. Isaac agilely dodges the pushing and shoving that threatens to overwhelm as he easily unlocks the front doors, wise to his years since that horrific first day. Laura and Boyd stand resolutely at the cash registers and pastry displays, twin pasted smiles on their faces for the swarms of people filling into the bakery and the erupting sounds of loud orders and the mad scramble for a claim to a seat.

Today’s Monday boasts the return of red velvet muffin tops and blood orange chocolate, two of the top flavors for the month of February, and people are clamoring to get the first fresh batch that comes out. It also sees Derek on one of his rare morning bake shifts, where he does his baking starting around 3 AM rather than his usual nighttime into early noon.

Derek’s frantically shoving in trays of batter into his ovens as fast as he’s taking out the ones already done. He’s already scalded himself twice, reaching into the ovens without mitts, but his first batch is perfect, not a single muffin overcooked or too mushy. He sucks a few fingers into his mouth to try and alleviate the throbbing pain, tasting the sugary sweet batter of red velvet and raw egg. Wiping his hand on his splattered tank top and half apron, Derek quickly plucks the fresh baked muffins out of the tins, gives the blood orange chocolate ones a quick brush of a light citrus glaze, and arranges them in the display baskets before carefully stacking them on top of each other and hefting two on each shoulder to take out to the storefront.

He pushes out the bakeroom with a grunt, and the loud buzzing chatter of the storefront washes over him. Derek ignores the customers as he makes his way to the display case and hands over to Laura one stack of baskets while he puts down the other and slides open the glass door so Laura can stick them in.

The morning progresses for the next six hours like this, with Derek coming out every thirty minutes with a new batch to replenish the already empty baskets. In between keeping an eye on his muffins, Derek also does a couple of custom orders that Laura had sent in: two dozen chocolate banana cupcakes with a peanut butter swiss meringue buttercream frosting, a particularly _huge_ order of 150 bittersweet chocolate sablés with a dusting of orange-flavored sugar, and a few breakfast quiches and savory ham and cheese scones for a company meeting.

By the time lunch time rolls in, Derek’s about ready to throw in the towel and just collapse on the flour-dusted floor. His orders are all done, though, so he’s pretty pleased with himself, despite the fact that he’s basically using his steel tables as a makeshift stand-up bed.

Laura pokes her head in and sighs when she catches sight of Derek almost sprawled across his still messy work tables. Noise from the store spill in from where Laura’s cracked open the doors, and Derek blindly flaps his hand at her to go away and take the noise with her.

“Oh my god, you idiot, just go home already. I’m pretty sure we’re set for the rest of the day with today’s muffins, so you can leave and actually sleep on a real bed, you loser,” says Laura exasperatedly. Derek grunts, unable to form actual words and shifts on his spot on the table for a more comfortable position.

Laura clucks her tongue. “Don’t you want to be all nicely rested and clean-looking for your morning date--I mean, shift with Stiles tomorrow?”

At that, Derek’s eyes immediately wrenches open, and he lifts his head up with minor difficulty to glare at the smirking face of his sister. She waggles her eyebrows, and Derek can only scowl because what evil person would use his affections for someone to make him get up from his nice and comfy table?

Still.

He pushes himself unsteadily up, arms gripping the sides of the table for support, and looks blearily at his sister, who looks like she’s trying her best not to laugh at his appearance. She wordlessly points at the side of his face where it’d been laying, her other hand pressed tightly to her own to muffle the giggles, and Derek resignedly exhales and gingerly wipes at his left cheek, grimacing when it comes away sticky and wet with cupcake batter. A quick taste tells him it’s the vanilla bean cupcakes he’d done last minute, and he sighs, wiping his hand on his apron.

“Oh, Derek,” says Laura with fond affection, stepping into the bakeroom, and cutting off the sounds from the storefront. She stops in front of him with a small smile and brushes his hair back, making a face when her fingers also come back sticky. “Yeah, okay, go home and take a shower, this is beyond gross.”

Derek snorts and hipchecks her, and Laura rolls her eyes and throws her arm gingerly around his shoulder, avoiding the mess on his shirt, and they walk in comfortable silence back out to the storefront, Derek not quite leaning into his sister.

Isaac and Boyd are running like clockwork, quickly taking down orders and filling up coffee cups and pulling out muffins and sticky buns as the queue line behind the counter ebbs and flows. Boyd is behind the register at the moment, taking the order of an office worker, it seems, so Derek just waves at Isaac, who nods back before moving his attention back to the coffee machine. Laura takes back her place at the display case, and Derek joins her, thinking to get a few pastries to snack on before he goes home for a shower and sleep.

The door opens, and two boys enter in, in the middle of a conversation. Derek pays them no mind, taking a brown paper bag and contemplating the contents of the display case.

“Dude, but seriously, their red velvet muffin tops are actually beyond this world, man, like it’s that good!” enthuses one of the boys by the end of the line. His brown curls flop as he hops in place, arms bear-hugging the other boy of the group. “And they only bring it in for a few times a year, okay, you gotta try this.”

"I just don't see what the big deal is, okay," the other boy grumbles.

“It’s Muffin Monday, Stiles, honestly. How have you never heard of Muffin Monday? You’re like here every week!”

Derek snaps his head up, almost braining himself on the edge of the display case.

“Shut up, Scott, you know why I’m here every week. And besides, I work at the lab on Mondays,” says Stiles, pushing Scott away with a scowl. Scott pouts and pushes back as they slowly move up to the front of the line. Derek’s watching them, half-hidden behind the case, as he curses every god that comes to mind that he looks like a fucking mess right now and why couldn’t he have just left earlier?

Boyd raises his eyebrows when he catches sight of Stiles and subtly tips his head over to where Derek’s crouching behind the case. Derek doesn’t know what to _do_ , so he just gapes back at Boyd, who snorts and turns back to greet the duo.

“Morning, Scott, Stiles. What can I get for you guys?” asks Boyd mildly.

“Hey, Boyd! Busy morning for you guys?” Scott greets with a smile. He stretches his neck out to check out the baked goods in the display window.

“Yeah, totally. It’s Muffin Monday, you know? But the morning rush is finally over, so it should be smooth sailing from here on out,” Boyd says with a shrug.

“That’s good! Anyway, do you guys have any more red velvet muffin tops because I’ve been dying to have one since last February,” says Scott, still searching the window. Boyd chuckles.

“Yeah, lucky for you, Derek made his last batch just earlier. What about you, Stiles?”

Stiles chokes. “Wait, wait, what? _Derek_?”

Derek hunches in further at Stiles’ incredulous tone. Shit.

“Uh huh, Derek. He’s our baker, didn’t you know?” Boyd says, nodding. Derek makes a dying noise in the back of his throat and glares at him, picturing a thousand knives raining down on the man.

Stiles gawps at Boyd. “But, but, I thought Laura was the baker? Derek told me she did all the baking?”

Laura, who’d been absently picking at her nails, looks up at her name and glances over to the counter.

“Hm? Someone say my name?”

Pointing a finger at her, Stiles says unsteadily, “Aren’t you the one who bakes all the stuff here?” He gestures to the display. “And the carrot cake muffins that I love so much?”

Laura shakes her head slowly. “Not if you want the building to burn down. No, Derek’s the one who makes all our pastries.” Derek slaps a hand to his face.

“Is--is Derek here? Like right now?” asks Stiles faintly. Both Boyd and Laura immediately look down at Derek, who groans softly.

“Wait, dude, isn’t Derek the guy who you’ve been crushing on here?” quips Scott suddenly. At that, Derek freezes.

“Oh my god, Scott, please don’t embarrass me in front of his co-workers and sister,” Stiles mutters, swiping a hand down his face. “Look, is Derek here? Can I talk to him real quick?”

Laura snorts and bends down to haul a squirming Derek up from his hiding place, much to Stiles’ and Scott’s surprise.

“Why don’t you take Stiles into the break room to talk, Derek,” says Laura sweetly, gripping his wrist and helpfully pointing to the door to the break room. Derek winces and nods.

“Was he hiding there the entire time? Isn’t that kind of creepy?” Scott points out to Laura as they walk away.

“He was raised by wolves,” Laura quips back with a shrug.

-

Derek clears his throat as soon as Stiles enters the room and shuts the door, ready to clear up the air.

“Why did you tell me Laura did the baking?” Stiles asks right off the bat, cutting off Derek’s attempt to speak. He looks nervous, shifting from one foot to the other, with his hands jammed into his jean pockets.

Derek shrugs, scratching at his chin and making a small face when he feels dried batter crumbling off.

“Were--I mean, were you lying to me because you felt uncomfortable with me flirting with you all this time? I mean, I thought it was like a mutual thing? I thought I had all the signs right, the bantering and the eye fucking, but--am I wrong? Did I get it wrong?” Stiles is practically vibrating at this point, hands out and clenching in fists at his sides.

Derek feels like he’s been slapped with a fish. “N-no! No, I mean, no, I wasn’t--I mean, I panicked? When you asked? I didn’t mean to say Laura, it just slipped? I didn’t, I didn’t--I mean, I _am_ interested, I’m very interested! I just. It just came out.”

“Oh. Oh. Okay,” Stiles breathes, visibly deflating in relief.

“Yeah.”

“You do like me, though, right? I’m not seeing things?”

Derek feels his cheeks pink, and ducks his head to nod bashfully.

“Yeah.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, nods to himself. “Okay. Good.” Then, he throws himself at Derek, hands grabbing onto Derek’s face, and smashes their lips together.

Unprepared for the sudden weight or Stiles’ unexpectedly chapped lips, Derek scrambles too late to brace himself and Stiles and finds himself suddenly horizontal on the ground with a pounding headache and the air knocked out of him from the extra baggage on top of his chest.

“ _Ow._ ”

“Sorry! Sorry! Oh my god, this is so embarrassing, shit,” apologizes Stiles profusely, pushing himself up onto his elbows, uncaring of the mess on Derek’s tank and apron. Derek grimaces when a particularly knobby elbow presses into his sternum, but he’s more concerned with what just happened. He stops Stiles from drawing back up completely, arms firmly wrapped around the boy’s shoulders and waist.

“Stiles-- _Stiles_ \--jesus, stop squirming, come on.”

Stiles fights a bit against the hold, but the fight goes out of him like a deflated balloon at Derek’s words. He groans and drops back down onto Derek, legs tangling into his, and hooks his chin into the curve of Derek’s shoulder, doing his best to smother himself.

“Oh my _god_ ,” he moans, muffled, and stretching out the ‘o’. Derek shifts a little, tickled by the puffs of air coming into contact with his skin, but gives Stiles a light backrub, brushing his hand lightly up and down the boy’s back soothingly.

“So, uh, that was a kiss, right? You tried to kiss me?” Derek presses tentatively. Stiles groans and pushes his face further into the curve of Derek’s neck.

“Can we not bring that up and pretend that it never happened?”

Derek hums, and flicks his eyes down to the back of Stiles’ messy brown hair. He debates for a moment whether he should touch it or not, but takes the jump in the end, sinking his other hand into the brown locks and lightly scratching Stiles’ scalp with his nails.

“We could, if you want,” Derek says consideringly, smiling at the noise Stiles makes when his hand presses particularly deep into his scalp. “But, I thought we could try it again. If you’re up for it, I mean.”

Stiles pulls his head up so fast, he just misses clipping Derek in the face.

“ _What_ \--I mean--yes? Yes, totally, completely, I am all for that, yes. Let’s do that,” stammers Stiles, eyes wide on his face and searching Derek’s for any hint of a lie. Derek only smiles wider, though, and shifts his hands to cup Stiles’ jaw and reels him in slowly.

“Yeah?”

“Y-yes, _fuck_ yes,” Stiles breathes out, only a few centimeters of space between them now. His hands are pressed warmly into Derek’s sides, shamelessly sliding up his tank and absently caressing the skin underneath, and Derek has to hold back a shudder when Stiles grazes by the jut of his hips.

“Ok,” Derek whispers, flicking his eyes to Stiles’ lips and back up to his eyes, and closes the last millimeters of space as his own eyes flutter shut.

It’s sweet. Of all the ways Derek has imagined their first kiss going down, sweet is the one he’d least expected; he’d imagined something hard and fast, biting and dripping with sex, tongues colliding against each other for dominance and hands scrambling over sweat-slick skin. And yet, _this_ feels even better. Stiles is awkwardly chaste at first, keeping closed-mouthed and pressing in, but that only endears him to Derek more and more as he kisses and kisses, and slowly, Stiles relaxes into his mouth, loosening his body and opening up his lips for quick nips here and there. Derek’s hands slide up into Stiles’ hair, ruffling up and down, and Stiles runs his own against Derek’s sides, leaving a blazing trail with his touch.

And then, Derek’s mouth opens and Stiles surges in, the sweetness is swept away by a tidal wave of desire and heat. Their noses bump a little as they pull each other closer, trying to enter each other’s skin through touch alone, and it’s heady, a cloying heat that envelopes them both. Stiles bites down onto Derek’s bottom lip and pulls, tongue laving away at the hurt when he lets go, and Derek shudders, arousal singing in his veins.

“Oh my god!”

The loud yelp Isaac lets out and his subsequent retreat out the doors is enough to break the moment, and Stiles pulls away with a quick smack to crane his neck up just in time to see the door swinging shut. He looks back down at Derek, eyebrows raised, and Derek--well, Derek’s still a little dazed from the kiss to really be firing on all cylinders at the moment.

He blinks once, then twice, to shake away headiness, but Stiles’ all-too fond smile just makes Derek drag the boy back down for another kiss, to which he goes eagerly. They keep it closed-mouth this time, a series of quick, short pecks, and then Stiles pulls away to lift himself up off of Derek and the ground. Derek props himself up on his elbows and watches Stiles stretch up, his plaid button-down rising up with him to flaunt a few inches of naked skin, peppered with moles, before dropping his arms back down and covering it again.

“Okay, I think we’ve kept them long enough,” says Stiles with a grin, offering his hand to Derek. Derek snorts and takes it, pulling himself up and marveling at Stiles’ surprisingly steady grip. “But I’d like to be able to do this again sometime. Preferably in a room where we wouldn’t be interrupted. Maybe some curly fries and a burger too.”

“Hm,” Derek hums, reaching up and gently wiping off a streak of flour and a clump of sticky batter on Stiles’ cheek, “that can definitely be arranged. Friday sound good to you?”

Stiles’ answering beam is almost heart-stopping.

-

The morning is long and tedious. Derek’s already had to serve four like-tempered customers who all griped about their orders, and each time, Erica or Boyd had to hold him back from throwing their coffee in their faces and their ensuing lawsuits. By the fifth customer who leaves with her raspberry scone and a sourer look than she’d come in with, Derek’s about ready to just exile himself to the bakeroom so he wouldn’t have to deal with any more snippy customers.

Thankfully, Stiles chooses this time to breeze into the bakery, and his adorable face squint is enough to brighten up Derek’s day entirely. He marches to up to the counter where Derek’s working and plants himself squarely in front of the register, arms crossed.

“Morning, Stiles,” Derek says, trying not to grin. Stiles huffs, and unfolds his arms to lean in.

“You left me hanging in bed again this morning, you asshole,” he growls, mock-angry. “I was hoping for a little morning lovin’, and you weren’t there when I turned around to get the party started.”

“Stiles, I realize you think it’s cute when you air out your bedroom activities in public, but it really isn’t,” says Erica drily as she passes by, on her way to the break room. Stiles gets an offended look and flips her the bird.

“Fuck you, Erica, I’m _adorable_ ,” he calls out, with the nose wrinkle that Derek just wants to smooth out with his face. And he does, drawing a still-open-mouthed Stiles into a kiss, licking into his pliant mouth before pulling away.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight when I get home then,” Derek promises, and Stiles, still lost in the sudden kiss, stares blankly at him for a few moments before responding.

“Hm...ah, yeah, okay. Good. Good.” Derek tries to hide his smirk before a hand, but Stiles catches him and rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up and get my coffee.”

Derek snickers, but gets his usual for Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /hides my face away
> 
> Yes, it's another fic with the popular coffeeshop/bakery trope, but you know what? I love this trope, so whatever. Another fic set in NYC, which is becoming a theme with me, huh. Sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of my love for this city. (One day, we'll explore Queens and Flushing in immense detail. I'll make it work. ;D)
> 
> Anyway, this fic couldn't have been possible with the help of my beloved beta, [Sophia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stewardesses/), so thank you so much, bb. :* Also, my first kiss scene! It was kind of nerve-wracking, to the say the least, and so frustrating because I ended up spending an entire day on just two paragraphs, so. Whatever. I'll practice more, I guess.
> 
> Also, a mention of pizza, ahahaha, I couldn't resist. Sorry, not sorry. (See [balling balling balling (he's so baller)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/593307) for the joke reference. Also, wow, actual self-pimping, that's new.)
> 
> But anyway, thanks for reading, and please leave comments if you liked the fic! It always makes me so happy to hear feedback from you guys, so yeah.
> 
>  **EDIT** : [SOMEONE DREW ME FANART IM PLOTZING](http://ninjaninaiii.tumblr.com/post/79925625063/well-now-somebody-clearly-didnt-get-up-on-the)


	2. selected recipes from hale's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what it says on the tin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So one of my commenters asked if I could provide recipes for what Derek baked in the fic, and I’m sorry to say that I never actually looked at any (except for one!!) when I wrote them in, just wished about it or searched for likely possibilities. That being said, I endeavored to find recipes that came either close to what I was picturing or possible alternatives! And, keep in mind, these are only a few of the things referenced in the story, not all pastries because I didn’t find some to my liking, so, if you’d like, please feel free and create your own version from your own imagination/research! Fffff.

**Carrot Cake Muffins** (taken from [The Moonlight Baker](http://themoonlightbaker.com/2012/12/27/carrot-cake-muffins/))

\- 2 C. all-purpose flour  
\- ¾ C. granulated sugar  
\- 1 tsp. kosher salt  
\- 1 Tbsp. baking powder  
\- 2 tsp. ground cinnamon  
\- 1 egg  
\- 1 C. buttermilk  
\- ¼ C. canola oil  
\- 1tsp. vanilla extract  
\- 2 C. carrots, finely grated  
\- 1 C. walnuts, toasted and chopped  
\- cream cheese frosting for serving, optional

1\. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Line a muffin pan with paper baking cups. Set aside.

2\. In a large bowl, mix together flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, and cinnamon. Take about 2 Tbsp. of mixture and reserve.

3\. In a separate bowl, beat together egg, buttermilk, oil, and vanilla. Once combined, pour wet mixture into dry ingredients. Mix until just barely combined. Gently stir in grated carrots. Take reserved 2 Tbsp. of flour mixture and toss with chopped walnuts. Add walnuts into muffin batter and stir until just incorporated.

4\. Scoop batter into prepared muffin pan, until batter just about reaches the top (I like to use an ice cream scoop for this). Bake on the middle oven rack for about 17-20 minutes, until a cake tester comes out clean. Cool in muffin pan for about 10 minutes, then transfer to cooling rack and let cool the rest of the way.

5\. Serve with cream cheese frosting if desired.

_Yields 12 Muffins_

OR

[Carrot Cake with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting](http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2008/12/carrot-cake-with-maple-cream-cheese-frosting/) (from Smitten Kitchen)

*

 **Blood Orange Chocolate Chunk Muffins** (taken from [White On Rice Couple](http://whiteonricecouple.com/recipes/chocolate-muffins/))

*For this one, you could probably add 1tbsp of unsweetened Dutch-processed cocoa powder for the complete chocolate taste, which should be enough to not overwhelm the blood orange, but this is not necessary if you’re fine with just chocolate chunks

Muffin Ingredients

1 3/4 c (275g) unbleached, all-purpose Flour  
1/2 c (100g) Sugar  
1 1/2 t (6g) Baking Powder  
1/2 t (2g) Baking Soda  
1/4 t (1g) Sea Salt  
grated Zest of 3 Blood Oranges  
approx. 6 oz (170g) Dark Chocolate Chunks or Chips  
1/2 c (115g) unsalted Butter, melted  
2/3 c (155ml) fresh Blood Orange Juice  
1 t (5ml)Vanilla Extract  
2 Eggs

Blood Orange Glaze

1/4 c (50g) Sugar  
1/4 c (60ml) fresh Blood Orange Juice

1\. Pre-heat oven to 400°F. Grease & flour muffin pan.

2\. In a large bowl whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, sea salt, and zest until well mixed. Mix in chocolate chunks.

3\. Combine melted butter, blood orange juice, vanilla extract and eggs. Mix until well combined. Fold into dry mixture until just combined (important- do not overmix). Spoon into muffin pan cups, mounding full.

4\. Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until lightly brown. Test with a tooth pick to double check center doneness (should come out clean unless it hits chocolate.) While muffins bake, make blood orange glaze: combine sugar and blood orange juice in a small saucepan and heat to dissolve sugar. Set aside.

5\. Poke muffins in a few places with a toothpick and pour over warm glaze. Allow to cool.

*

 **[Ham, Cheese, and Chive Scones](http://mistyyoon.com/2011/09/25/ham-cheese-chive-scones/)** (from Misty Yoon)

OR

[Caramelized Mushroom and Onion Biscuits](http://joythebaker.com/2012/02/caramelized-mushroom-and-onion-biscuits/) (from Joy the Baker)

*Replace mushrooms and onions with chunks of ham steak and sharp cheddar cubes

*

 **[Intensely Chocolate Sablés](http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2013/01/intensely-chocolate-sables/)** (from Smitten Kitchen)

*For orange-flavored sugar, zest an orange (or any citrus fruit you'd like, doesn't have to be orange) and keep it in your sugar in a container for about a week before use! Gives it time for the flavor to infuse into the sugar.

*

 **Chocolate Banana Cupcakes with Peanut Butter Swiss Meringue Buttercream** (taken from [Tracey’s Culinary Adventures](http://traceysculinaryadventures.blogspot.com/2011/03/chocolate-banana-cupcakes-with-peanut.html) for the cupcakes; [Crepes of Wrath](http://crepesofwrath.net/2011/09/13/3862/) for the buttercream)

Chocolate Banana Cupcakes

1/2 cup coconut milk (I used lite)  
1/2 cup ripe banana, mashed (about 1 banana)  
1/3 cup canola oil  
1 teaspoon vanilla extract  
3/4 cup sugar  
1 cup all-purpose flour  
1/3 cup Dutch-process cocoa powder  
3/4 teaspoon baking soda  
1/2 teaspoon baking powder  
1/4 teaspoon salt

1\. To make the cupcakes: Preheat oven to 350 F. Line a muffin tin with paper liners. 

2\. In a medium bowl, whisk the mashed banana, coconut milk, sugar, oil and vanilla until well combined. The mixture won't be completely smooth due to the banana, but whisk vigorously to get out as many of the large lumps as possible. In a second medium bowl, whisk the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder and salt together. ( If your cocoa is lumpy like mine you may want to sift instead of whisking - I can never get the lumps out with just a whisk.) Add the dry ingredients to the bowl with the wet ingredients and gently whisk (or fold with a rubber spatula) just until combined. 

3\. Distribute the batter evenly among the liners, filling each about 1/2 - 2/3 full. Bake for 18-20 minutes, or until the cupcakes spring back when lightly touched and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove the muffin pan to a wire rack. Let the cupcakes cool in the pan for 5 minutes then transfer them to the wire rack to cool completely.

_Makes 12 cupcakes_

 

Peanut Butter Swiss Meringue Frosting

2 cups granulated sugar  
1 cup egg whites (about 8 egg whites)  
1 1/2 pounds (6 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature  
1 cup creamy peanut butter  
1/8 teaspoon kosher salt

1\. To make your Swiss meringue, start by combining the egg whites and sugar in a double boiler. I do not have a double boiler, so I just put the egg whites and sugar in my stand mixer, then put the stand mixer over a shallow pan filled with very hot water. This seemed to work out just fine for me, but be careful not to get any water in your bowl and not to let your bowl get too hot, as you don’t want your eggs to scramble.

2\. Stir your egg white and sugar combination with a rubber spatula until the sugar has completely dissolved over medium heat. This may take about 10 minutes. Be sure to scrape down the sides of the bowl to get at all of the sugar and be sure it is dissolved. When you think your egg whites are ready, feel some of the mixture with your hands – it should feel completely smooth and no grains should be there anymore. Remove from the heat and allow it to cool for 8-10 minutes, until at least room temperature – if it is not cooled enough when you add in the butter, the butter will melt and the frosting will not come together.

3\. Using your stand mixer (which is pretty much a necessity for Swiss meringue, although you could use a hand mixer if you are determined enough), beat your egg whites and sugar together on high until stiff peaks form, about 5-8 minutes. Now, start adding in your butter, 2 tablespoons at a time on the medium speed setting. Be sure each 2 tablespoon addition has been beaten in completely before adding in more. When you are a bit more than halfway through the butter, it will begin to look curdled and you will want to freak out. DO NOT FREAK OUT. It will be okay and it will come back together, just keep going. If you’ve added all the butter and it still looks that way, keep beating it for another 5-8 minutes, and it should come back together. If it doesn’t, it’s probably because the egg white mixture wasn’t cool enough when you added the butter – just put the bowl in the fridge for 5 minutes or so to firm it back up, then start beating it again, and repeat until it has the correct consistency. The final product should look smooth and shiny. Beat in the salt and peanut butter, taste, and adjust as necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy baking! And if you do end up trying these recipes, do let me know how they turn out! :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Hale's](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8922028) by [Vvulpes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vvulpes/pseuds/Vvulpes)




End file.
